


Shock

by Davechicken



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 12:59:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9072682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: She's not in shock. She's adrenalised.





	

He’s angry. She’s angry. There’s so much that is going wrong. Years and years spent avoiding this fight, and now she’s right back in it and _everything is going so wrong so fast_ that it’s all she can do to keep her head above the water-level.

Her arms and legs pedal madly, but she’s going under. Too many things at once. Too many things. It claws at her brain and floods her with adrenaline.

 _Shock_ he’d said. Shock.

It’s not shock. Shock is when you go numb, or empty, or switch off. Shock is blankness and shaking. She’s _seen_ shock. She’s **been** in shock.

This is the fight-or-flight response. Except - soldier as she is - it’s _fight-flight-flinch-freeze_ or the last one. The one that’s _really_ dangerous, once you’re not around an immediate death-source.

 _Fornicate_.

Her body is jangling with adrenaline, and she knows _later_ she will come down. She will come down _hard_ , because the amount of hormones pumping through her blood makes her strong enough to lift K-2SO if she wants to. Enough to push her past her pain barriers, and enough to mouth off to him.

There is nothing to fight, because she’s stuck on a ship. Freezing and flinching are useless, which means she’s following him up the ladder, and slamming him into the ‘fresher.

“It is not. **Shock**.”  


Part of her wants to punch him. Part of her wants to do _worse_ than punch him, but she still needs him (to her chagrin). 

“It will be, soon.”  


He must understand. He _must_. She’d been sixteen when she got left behind, but that had been plenty old enough to understand.

Soldiers did it. A lot. It burned off tension, and flooded you with endorphins to help with the lows. Even without it meaning anything, it made you more kindly pre-disposed to one another. Jyn’s never been ashamed of her sexual drive, and he’s here, and hopefully amenable.

“Then help me.”  


Even if he did just nearly kill her father. She can’t process that, not with the brain mist that’s in place right now. She’s angry, and she needs the anger to abate, and needs to feel something good. It’s pure animal lust, and it needs to _leave_.

She stands in close, but doesn’t touch. You don’t force. Even when you want, you don’t force. You _ask_. If he says no, she might ask the pilot. Probably not. He’s less her type. Too unworldly. Too likely to think it means something it doesn’t.

“Jyn…”  


“If you’re not going to help me, then say so, and I’ll go.”  


She just needs to feel something good, even if it’s fake. No, the _pleasure_ isn’t fake. That can’t be removed from this, and she knows it isn’t love.

He’s backed against the wall, and she sees his eyes track over her, his throat swallow down a gulp. A tiny step closer and she leans in to press against his groin, to feel with a rub if he’s getting hard.

He is. Of _course_. Men take less to get going than women, she’s found. She has a preference, but she’s not averse to just getting off however she can. It’s only a bodily response, like sneezing, or coughing. 

His hands go to her waist, and that’s his answer. She tugs at his belt, and shoves a hand in his pants. He’s _very_ ready already, which is nice, and she strokes a few times to get the feel for him. Her own sex isn’t quite there yet, but the knowledge of how much he wants her helps quite a bit.

Cassian won’t meet her eyes, but he clearly has some lingering misapprehensions to labour under, as he starts to brush his rough face over her throat. She pulls down her jacket and - with no real finesse - tugs one breast out for him. His beard scratches when he kisses her, and his hands move to cup one buttock and sneak into her own pants, and over her panties.

His hand is warm, and he cups her through her underwear, clamping her lips together and manhandling her almost too gently. She grunts, and grinds down, finding his balls and tugging at them.

“Are you–?”  


“I’m clean, and I’m sterilised,” she replies. No way was she ever going to have children, not in this galaxy. She’d made the decision long ago.  


His fingers push under the gusset, which is starting to get sodden. She has no belongings to speak of, so there better be replacements on Yavin 4.

Cassian isn’t an unsure lover, like she thinks Bodhi would be. His touches are designed to get her off, and quickly, which is what she needs. She rides the fingers that drag through her, and when she feels she’s slick enough, she forces him over to sit on the closed toilet lid.

Not her finest hour. Not her worst.

He sits, and holds her for support as she lowers herself onto him. He hasn’t confirmed that he’s clean, but he doesn’t strike her as the type to lie, not after the question was asked. 

The length inside of her is reassuring, in a way. She doesn’t always feel the need to be penetrated, but sometimes it’s nice. It fills up a hole that hollows out from lust, and she starts to bounce on his lap.

Jyn shoves her hands into his hair, making sure it hurts. She needs to keep him from coming too soon, and she needs to punish him, too. Harder, she rides, and she feels his fingers curve around her free breast. They support it, and lips seal on her nipple (still scritchy) as he rubs hard at her clit. This is all about the visceral touching, and the harder he touches her, the more she hates him.

(Except it’s more complicated than hate. It’s so much more complicated than hate.)

Harder, and his kisses turn to sucks and bites. She won’t touch him with her own lips, just yanking at his hair and slapping her thighs to his when she drops. Her arousal is building to a peak, but it’s not quite there. 

The sound of footsteps has him pause, but the very risk of being detected… she thumbs her own clit until she’s coming, tensing around him and milking his cock with her walls. He squawks in surprise, and her smile goes feral as she lifts herself off him, leaving him bereft. 

Cassian grabs his dick in his hand, and starts to beat it off for her. She watches - almost disinterested - as his eyes close and his neck whipcords. The climax is wrenched from him, and she’s always struck by how weird the male version is. His cockhead leaks and spurts, and he makes the most ridiculous, stifled noise. The footsteps leave, and she starts to refasten herself in her clothing. She’s only marginally sticky, and he can clean himself with what’s in the ‘fresher.

After she’s gone, because she got what she came for. What he does next is up to him. Jyn walks out feeling much better, though still not over it. You don’t fix everything with a simple fuck.


End file.
